


Ovation

by Coffin Liqueur (HP_Lovecats)



Category: Rock & Rule (1983)
Genre: Character Study, Pre-Canon, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Short One Shot, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27412480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HP_Lovecats/pseuds/Coffin%20Liqueur
Summary: In the center of a stage, a young dog moved with a body like a whip.
Kudos: 4





	Ovation

In the center of the stage bathed in light about as bright as a nuclear flare, a young dog moved with a body like a whip. Dressed in a black leather suit, his movements sliced through that radiance with every sharp, refined _flick_ of an arm or jaunty _jump_ on a boot with one note or every arc to pull the mic stand back and pour his voice like curving smoke into its receiver; a mane of hair bleached brilliant-white and grinning fangs shown root-to-root boldly caught that light again and refracted it to the umpteenth as he cast it forth and on out into a crowd of faces all screaming in a feverish unison.

They all looked so small, out there, closely packed-together. He supposed that it could just as easily be the stars in his own eyes or the lingering haze in the air from the pyrotechnics - or the few backstage shots of Verminth he’d downed - but he never found himself able to make out a single face at these shows, and he supposed that was fair enough. His die-hard fans numbered in so many digits that it would be impossible to recognize the repeat concert-goers that he was sure he had in scores, even with the layout of a crowd ever-shifting.

All he recognized was that the crowd, as always, were most all standing, shoulder-to-shoulder, front-to-back, all raising the roof under the roof for a face or a sign or an eye to be seen.

It was all just as well.

Mok’s shows only _sold out_ insofar as he _believed_ in selling out. He certainly enjoyed bearing witness to the rush when he announced a new tour, watching the numbers of seats tick down at a positively spinning rate to zero; when it was up, however, he always found a way to keep standing room open.

The fans seemed to think of it as a treat. Looking up to a _particularly generous master of ceremonies_.

Technically, it wasn’t the most, _mmh-how-to-put-it, **safety-compliant**_ way of putting on a show, he knew - but he definitely couldn’t say no to that much extra revenue.

Or absolutely _electric_ adulation from a crowd who’d be _standing and screaming_ by the end of it all anyway.

He gave a wink of general approval out at the audience before he pulled into a spin, turning the mic higher and higher; the crowd shrieked as, indeed, a complimented collective. He continued to sing, unworried and unmoved.

This was where he should be - the way everything was right and correct.

Just another show beyond the limits of sold-out - there was nothing exceptional about Mok’s world.

Except for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for r/FanFiction's November 2020 music-themed prompt challenge. Nov. 1: "Fanfare".


End file.
